


Jealousy is a bitch. Except when it isn't.

by j_obsessed



Series: NSFW... approach with caution (or a lust for cricketers) [5]
Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Belts, Biting, Car Sex, Choking, Filthy, Gratuitous Smut, Hand & Finger Kink, Jealousy, Light Dom/sub, Love Bites, M/M, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:48:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25646083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_obsessed/pseuds/j_obsessed
Summary: A few people have asked for this, and in all honesty, I wanted it just as bad. So here you go. Gratuitous, nasty, filthy smut between Ben, Eoin and Mark. Because they're definitely fucking. And Ben definitely tops ;)))
Relationships: Eoin Morgan/Ben Stokes/Mark Wood, Jonny Bairstow/Chris Woakes, Jos Buttler/Joe Root
Series: NSFW... approach with caution (or a lust for cricketers) [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887832
Comments: 22
Kudos: 11





	Jealousy is a bitch. Except when it isn't.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HeidiJames28](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeidiJames28/gifts), [Rosetylars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosetylars/gifts), [SarahoftheRomanIsles23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahoftheRomanIsles23/gifts).



> For my babies who have supported me with this ship from the start. I love you, and I hope, that this hits your mark ;) <3

T“Joey you don’t understand-”

“Oh, believe me, I do.”

“But he just- and I just- fucking dammnit I just want him to choke me.”

“Yep, Joey understands. Trust me, I am unfortunate enough to be living in the room next to him.”

Mark creases an eyebrow and motions for him to continue. Chris snorts and gives Joe a pointed look. Joe nods and tilts his head slightly, tugging the neck of his turtleneck down.

Mark and Eoin both gasp, very loudly.

“What the fuck?”

“What the actual fuck!?”

Braced around Joe’s neck, are several dark bruises, shaped remarkably like one blonde wicketkeeper’s hand.

“As I was saying, I do understand.”

“No, but like, Joey, when he was taking his shirt off last night, oh my god-”

“Oh my god, his hands, fuck me-”

“I just want his hands around my throat, why won’t he do it!”

“Wait so, you guys have fucked then?”

“Yes but, well, sort of.”

Joe and Chris both look incredibly confused.

“It’s more like, uh, made love?”

“AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW,” the two boys have their hands on their cheeks and have scrunched up their noses happily.

“SO CUTE!” Joe squeals.

“BUT WE DON’T WANT IT TO BE CUTE!”

“Not all the time,” Mark agrees with his boyfriend.

Chris hums, and Joe seems to be in a mind of his own, smiling wistfully.

“HELLO!? We need help!”

“Sorry, I was just-”

“Sorry, I was thinking-”

“Yes, we know, you were thinking about how good Jos and Jonny are in bed, we got that, thank you so much,” both Ben’s boyfriends roll their eyes playfully.

The other two give them sheepish grins. “I don’t really know how to help you… because Jos kind of, like, knew? We’ve been friends since we were 15, I used to complain about my unsatisfactory partners all the time. The first time we kissed, he asked me to describe to him what I wanted; quote-unquote _how can I make this good for you_ , and within seconds he had his hand around my throat and shoved me against the floor with his fingers in-”

“Alright Joseph that will do thank you." Joe doesn't look admonished one bit. "Quite similar, I was mad about Jonny’s chant, one thing led to another, he asked if it was alright for him to go a little harder and prove that he was mine, and well, let’s just say, wicketkeeper’s hands feel good in your hair.”

“Oh, _yes,_ they do.” Joe’s gone somewhere in his mind again, and Eoin is about to deck both of them, but refrains, because a Protective Jonny, is scary, and a Protective Jos... that is terrifying. (Eoin knows, because Jos is almost as protective of him, as he is of Joe. _Almost.)_

“You could just tell him, you know?”

“Have you tried that? Talking about it?”

“Well…”

“I mean…”

Both Joe and Chris sigh aloud. “You’re idiots.”

The door flies open, rather aggressively, and they’re alerted to the presence of one all-rounder, Ben Stokes. He walks in, presses a kiss to both Eoin and Mark’s foreheads, before grabbing his boxing gloves, and chucking a pair at Jos.

Ever the supportive friend, and the protective person that he is, Jos quickly pecks his boyfriend, before taking the offer, hooking an arm over Ben’s shoulders and leaving swiftly, to ensure Ben doesn’t lose it in front of Joey.

Jonny places a chaste peck to Chris’ temple and starts explaining. “Ben’s in a mood… Some asshole on the street was talking, quite loudly, about the disease of the homosexuals, or some shit. He almost threw hands but, Jossy is a little too good at predicting our behaviour nowadays.”

Joe blinks, wide-eyed and worried. “Is he gonna hurt him?”

Eoin immediately squishes Joe into his arms. “Darling, you know Benny, he practically can’t bring himself to injure Jos, they’re too close for that. He loves him too much.”

Joe nods, still looking a little unsure.

“And he loves you way too much to hurt your boyfriend.”

Joe nods, because that is definitely true. Then he gets a lightbulb idea. “Actually. This might be a good opportunity for him to hurt his own boyfriends… in a good way…”

“OOoooooooh Joey you’re a genius!” Chris holds his hand out, and the small blonde high-fives him enthusiastically.

Jonny seems to catch on, but the other two look visibly confused.

The ginger keeper rolls his eyes, “let him take his anger out on you,” he explains.

“He wouldn’t though- if he is gonna throw a punch, the only person he’d trust to take it, is Jos.”

“Oh my god- THE NEXT TIME HE’S ANGRY JUST TELL HIM YOU WANT HIM TO CHOKE YOU THEN AND LET HIM FUCK YOU UNTIL HE’S NOT ANGRY ANYMORE!”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Right. Yes.”

“That’s a thought…”

By the time Jos and Ben get back, two hours have passed. Both of them look unharmed, and it releases something in Joe’s chest. The young blonde still throws himself into his boyfriend’s arms, clutching at him tightly.

Jos catches him, dropping everything he’s holding without a second thought. Ben clutches at his chest.

“Hi gorgeous, everything okay?” 

Joe nods against his collarbone, before mouthing at it softly. _“Oh, I see.”_ The younger blonde giggles and Jos shakes his head fondly.

“Insatiable baby, that’s what you are, come on, let’s take a shower.” Jos kisses Ben’s temple and takes his leave.

The taller ginger smiles at their retreating figures, and heads to his room. He peels off his shirt, completely soaked through with sweat. Working out with Jos is a serious stress reliever, and he’s very grateful to the blonde keeper for his consistent support. He flexes his neck, tipping his head left to right and groaning at the sensation.

Two sets of warm hands (he recognises them both immediately), start massaging softly at different areas of his tattooed back. Mark’s thumbs are digging into the flesh just below his shoulder blades, and the heels of Eoin’s palms are working at his trapezius. He groans in pleasure, feeling some of the knots in his upper body release immediately. 

“Hi, Benny. Are you okay?”

“Yeah baby, just, had a not-so-nice run-in with some assholes.”

“Did Jossy help?”

“Absolutely.”

“Are you still angry?”

“No sweetheart, I would appreciate a hug, though?”

Within milliseconds, he’s got two armfuls of cuddly clingy boyfriends.

_Yeah, Ben’s happy._

\--

“Joe, your boyfriend is too fucking good at anger management.”

“First of all, my boyfriend is good at everything, fucking included. Second of all, why does it sound like you’re complaining?”

“Because Ben is never angry enough to take it out on us, Jos always wears him out.”

Chris sighs from the other end of the couch. His nose _was_ in a book, with his feet entangled with Joe’s beneath the blanket. The blonde was playing on his phone, sitting at the opposite end.

“Okay, I’m sick of you two whining about this. Since Joey's plan didn’t work out, here’s a second one.” He takes a deep breath and screams “Jooooooooosssssssss!”

The wicketkeeper runs in immediately, eyes scanning the room for Joe. When he sees his young boyfriend curled up on the couch, his stance immediately returns to its original not-protective-and-not-about-to-rip-someone-apart position.

“Yes, Chris?”

“I need you to mark Eoin.”

“You _what!?”_ Joe almost falls off the couch. “Come again!?”

“Jos. Bite his neck.”

Jos’ eyes widen comically and the way he’s looking at Chris, you’d think the Brummie had grown another head. Joe splutters and actually does fall off the couch.

“Chris, what the fuck?” Mark looks a little concerned. 

“Ben will only react if he’s jealous. He’s a bit like Jonny in that aspect… So, _you,_ mark him, and we don’t have to keep listening to Mark and Eoin whine about the fact that Ben won’t fuck them into the mattress.”

“Uh… no, not happening!?!?!?!” Joe looks increasingly distraught at the situation, still lying on the floor, half bracing himself with an elbow, glaring up at Chris. “Why didn’t you ask Jonny, huh?”

“Do you know who I am?”

“DO _YOU_ KNOW WHO _I_ AM!?”

Jos is still standing there looking very concerned. Mark and Eoin are having some sort of heated discussion with their eyes, and Eoin looks up determinedly at the blonde keeper. “Do it,” he says, tilting his head and exposing the left side of his neck.

“Uh, J-Joey? Baby?”

The younger blonde’s bottom lip is currently taking a lot of abuse from his teeth, “just, I don’t, I can’t,” he turns his face away, motioning rapidly with his hand. That’s enough of an answer for Jos.

“Eoin, I love you, but no. You don’t want that. And I don’t think I can to do that to Ben, or to Joey. And it’s not the way to go about it.”

Right at that second, Ben walks in with Jonny. The sight of Eoin baring his throat for someone who _isn’t him_ is almost enough to make him body-slam the person.

Jonny nearly passes out at the sight, quickly gripping his friend’s bicep and holding him back.

“Someone explain this to me. Right now. Jos!?” Ben’s teeth are gritted, and he looks hurt. Eoin and Mark immediately regret their decisions.

“Nothing happened Ben. I didn’t touch him. I think you need to have a chat with your boyfriends, though.” Jos levels him with a stare, and Ben has never, never in his life, not trusted the keeper. Not in the 2016 T20 final. Not in the 2019 world cup super over. He’s not about to start doing it now. They share a nod, and Jos quickly picks Joe up, pulling the younger into his arms. “Baby? Angel?” 

“M’ok Jossy. I love you. Thank you.”

Jos sighs in relief and holds his boyfriend closer.

“Thank you,” Ben coughs out, before taking both his boyfriend’s hands, and pulling them into the bedroom.

He slams the door shut and gives them both an incensed look.

“We just-”

“Don’t Marky, you didn’t do anything. I was the one standing there. Chris suggested we make you jealous, so you’d be a little rougher in bed. I agreed. Mark hadn’t done anything.”

Ben glances between the two of them, nodding and then tugging them both into a hug. He really does need to thank Jos for the weekly boxing sessions… “Okay. But you didn’t just tell me because?”

“Because we’re a bit daft?”

“And because we know you’re a little afraid of hurting us, and, we didn’t exactly know how to bring it up.”

He kisses both their foreheads. “You’re both stupid. I love you both, but we need to have a serious discussion about this. The next time you bare your throat like that, for anyone who isn’t me, I’ll end up killing someone. We’re lucky it was Jos.”

“Did you just-”

Mark gasps. “Joey!? Oh my god is Joey okay?”

“You can go check on him Marky, if you’d like?”

Mark dashes out of the room and breathes out a heavy sigh when he sees Joe, lying atop Jos on the couch.

He hugs them both (at the same time because Joe refuses to let go of his boyfriend- understandably), and then leaves them alone, retreating back to his room so he can do the same thing the two blondes are doing.

Ben is running his hands softly through Eoin’s hair, and they’re both lying in bed, with a place kept empty just for him. He slips into it softly and relaxes. Sex can wait, this is more important.

“Sorry, Benny. We love you too.”

“We do. A lot. So much.”

**18:50 Jonny**

_They both alright?_

_Chris says he’s sorry_

**18:51 Ben**

_We’re fine Jonny_

_Promise_

_Tell Chris not to worry <3 we’re all okay _

_ Image sent  _

**18:52 Jonny**

_Adorable_

_< 3 _

_Glad to hear it_

**18:55 Ben**

_Thank you Jossy_

**18:55 Jossy**

_Always Benny_

_Joey’s okay, thank you for sending Mark <3 _

_I'm always here for you Benny_

**18:55 Ben**

_You’re a blessing Jos <3 _

**18:57 Blushy to Babies <3 **

_I’m sorry Joey :(_

_And Marky and Eoin :(_

**18:59 Joey to Babies <3 **

_It’s okay Blushy <3 _

_Love you <3 _

_Don’t do that again though._

**18:59 Blushy to Babies <3 **

_I won’t_

_Promise, Joey_

**18:59 Marky to Babies <3 **

_Don’t worry Blushy <3 we still love you _

**18:59 Morgy to Babies <3 **

_Yeah_

_We know you just wanted to help <3 _

_And we are gonna talk to Benny, so_

_Thank you both_

_Love you :*_

They all pile onto the couch an hour later, eating takeout from the local Thai restaurant, watching comedy reruns, and everything is all good.

_Communication is important._

_\--_

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" 

"Get away from him, or I'm going to slit your throat." 

Jos immediately holds an arm out in front of Eoin and Mark, as Jonny politely escorts another (the third one tonight) woman away after she _repeatedly_ tried to hit on Ben. (It was just the one time, and she had barely even said a word, but Mark is adamant.)

Jos kisses Mark’s temple, and then Eoin's and gestures to Jonny to let them leave.

“Have fun,” the ginger wicketkeeper grins.

“And call us when you’re done and all. Just so we know you’re safe.” Jos adds, discretely fist-bumping his wicketkeeper friend.

Ben nods, throws Mark the keys, and thanks god that he has two beautiful, capable, gorgeous boyfriends, dragging them out of the club and into the car park.

“Well done daddy,” Joe smirks, sparkly blue eyes all mischievous and smug. "There's a reason you're the adult here." Jos rolls his eyes and tugs Joe back onto the dancefloor. Jonny and Chris follow suit.

*

“I hate the way they look at you. You walk into the room, and everyone looks at you like they can have you. _But they can’t. You’re ours.”_

Eoin shoves the taller ginger against the side of the car immediately, gripping the side of his neck and pressing a bruising kiss to his boyfriend’s mouth, before using all of his self-restraint to let him go and take his seat in the front. “Marky. Drive.”

It's only a few minutes, thank fucking god, because the tension in the car is suffocating already. The second they pull into the garage, Ben throws the car door open and pulls Eoin into his chest. Mark slams his own door shut and plasters himself against Ben’s back.

“You’re ours. Those people, they can fantasise about it all they want, undressing you with their eyes, but they don’t get this.”

“How dare they think they can get their hands on what’s ours. I’ll tear them apart-”

Ben fists a hand in Eoin’s shirt as the shorter ginger’s fingers work into the all-rounder’s hair, tugging his head back roughly for Mark’s teeth. Ben moves willingly, baring his throat and groaning softly, as the shorter ginger’s nails scratch at his scalp. 

He feels Mark plunges his teeth into the centre of his throat, with so much venom it’s like he’s got a point to prove. Eoin’s hand flies up to the all-rounder’s bicep immediately, grappling tightly at the muscle. Ben takes the cue, using his thumb to push the man’s head back, and sealing his mouth around the tendons at the base of his neck. Eoin digs his nails into the tattooed muscle, needing to be grounded, needing something to hold on to while his throat is absolutely abused.

While Ben is busy biting at the column of his neck, Eoin has a death grip on his hair, tugging his head aside so that Mark can graze his teeth down from the left side of his jaw to the base of his throat. He isn’t biting, not in the way Ben is, he’s only letting his canines drag roughly against the flesh, occasionally pressing them in a little harder. Ben _convulses_ between them. They’re still standing in their garage, backed up against Ben’s mustang, and it’s all kinds of hot.

“I fucking hate the way they look at you,” Eoin gasps, hitching a leg up over Ben’s hip as he leans over him, pressing his tongue into Mark’s mouth. Ben reaches a hand back behind him, scraping his nails against Mark’s scalp. “All of them, they look at you like they want to shove you to the floor and ride your fucking face, call you all their titles, _but they can’t.”_

“They look at your arms like they want to bite them, _but that’s our job.”_

Ben gasps as each of his boyfriends sink their teeth into the curve of his biceps, sucking harshly at the skin, marking them over the green ink.

“People look at your hands, Ben, _your hands,_ and we can always tell they’re having the dirtiest thoughts,” Eoin’s hands grip at his, placing them just above the curve of his ass, pushing back into them, and arching up against his front.

_“Jesus fuck-”_

“How they want them inside them because they think they know the control you have with them. They think they know how you’d be able to use them... _but they have no fucking idea.”_

_His boyfriends are jealous. How cute._

_“I_ hate the way people look at _you,”_ Ben says, and within seconds, the dynamic has changed. He’s wrapped a hand around Eoin’s throat and tipped his own head back to kiss Mark behind him, messy and filthy, without any coordination, but that just makes it hotter.

Eoin watches his boyfriends, weak fingers encircling Ben’s wrist, as the grip around his throat tightens. “People eye you like they want to shove you down to your knees and fuck your mouth,” he says, making inescapable eye contact with the boy whose slim neck is currently grasped in his hand. The all-rounder turns slightly, grip never loosening, to face Mark. He drags blunt nail over his jawline before wrapping his other hand loosely around the pacer’s throat. “And you, people look at you like they want to bend you over the nearest surface and make you beg for them.”

Ben pulls both of them closer together, til their lips are millimetres apart from each other. Eoin’s tongue flicks over his mouth, and Mark follows the movement with his eyes. Ben squeezes tighter around Eoin’s neck, pushing him against Mark as the two put on a show for him, making out messily, whimpering and licking into each other’s mouths. “They look at the two of you as though they want to watch you do this. They think they’ll be able to act all dominant and get you like this, get you on your knees for them. But they can’t. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.” He pulls them apart with the grip he has on their throats, and Mark whines desperately. “You belong to _me,”_ he growls out, before biting roughly at the brunette’s lower lip. “And, so do you,” he snarls, fucking his tongue into Eoin’s mouth.

He lets them both go, leaning back against his car, arms crossed, gazing intently at his two lovers.

They both look debauched. Completely and utterly _fucked,_ and they’re not even naked yet. Ben’s eyes nearly roll back at the thought.

It’s barely been ten minutes, but Eoin’s throat looks destroyed. There are purple and red bruises, accompanied by fingertip shaped marks along the side. His lips are bitten raw, cherry-red, and it makes Ben want to fuck the boy’s mouth _now._

Mark has a glazed look in his eyes, and he keeps flicking his tongue out onto his lip, trying to keep the taste of Ben’s mouth on his tongue. His hair looks tugged at, relentlessly, and his pupils are completely dilated. Ben knows he’s being appreciated, Mark’s eyes are running their course over his chest, biceps, abdomen… before fixing on his _belt._

_Oh, I see._

Ben picks Mark up, and deposits him on the hood of his car, giving Eoin a salacious grin. He pushes the shorter ginger between the brunette’s legs and steps back. _He wants to watch._ Both of them are caught for words, unable to speak. Ben tucks a finger under Eoin’s chin, and tilts his head, breathing against his mouth, _“kiss him.”_

For the first time in his life, Eoin follows a damn order. And that’s what it is. An _order._ Not a request, not a polite enquiry, not even an option or a demand.

He braces his palms on Mark’s thighs and kisses his boyfriend tentatively. At first, it’s soft and careful. Lingering touches and soft brushes of his tongue. Taking his time, tasting him and savouring it.

It’s the broken “Eoin _please,”_ that does him. Immediately, he fists a hand in Mark’s shirt, and roughly pulls them closer together, so their hips are pressed up against each other. There’s an opportunity for Eoin to grind his body forward, against the car and against his boyfriend, which he takes enthusiastically. Neither of them notice Ben’s change in position. The taller ginger has sat in the driver’s seat of his car, fiddling with his keys as he watches them. Satisfied with their efforts, he slips the key into the slot, and starts the ignition, revving the engine. Mark and Eoin’s responding screams are _everything._

They both become more desperate, the way they clutch at each other, how their tongues meet before trying to lick further into the other’s mouth. Ben leans back and watches, slowly palming over his jeans. When Eoin starts writhing, he knows that his boyfriend is close. He can see the Irishman’s hands clutch harder at the muscles in Mark’s back, the way his body is no longer really responding to his mind’s control. So Ben does what any sane person would do, he revs the engine again. Louder, and for longer. He’s fucked them both over the hood of this car more times than he can count. Shoved them both against the hood, held them there and made them wait for it, _beg for it,_ as he drives them insane with the vibrations of the engine.

When he kicks the gear up, he sees Mark’s body shudder. But what sets him off, is the way he can hear them over the sound of the engine. Both of them releasing strangled cries of his name, yes. But the few pleas of “sir,” and the one of “daddy,” from Eoin, have him killing the engine and grabbing them both by the throat again. 

“Maybe we should take this inside hm?”

Mark nods softly, still eyeing the thick leather material currently fit snug against his hips. Eoin smirks because clearly, he’s noticed it too.

“I need words.”

“Y-yes, sir.” Ben’s eyes positively _flash._ Because it was quiet. But it was definitely there. He doesn’t release his grip on them, he tightens it actually, the way he knows both of them like. Eoin’s til the point where he has to gasp for oxygen, and for Mark, just enough so that he can feel the possessive grasp, but not enough to cut any of his air.

The moment they get to the bedroom, Ben pushes them both to their knees in front of the bed. “Now, why don’t you both tell me what you want hm? One by one, tell me all the dirty things you’ve been thinking about all night. I want to hear them, and then I’ll decide what to give you based on how good you both are.”

Mark’s breath catches, and Ben watches the tantalising way his jaw clenches as he swallows. _Around nothing, how disappointing._

Eoin gives him a nasty smirk, and bites his lip, releasing it with a filthy, wet sound. _Brat._

“Maybe you’d prefer not to speak, is that what it is? I am going to need words from you both tonight, unless you want me to just get myself off in front of you both, and leave you begging for it on your knees?”

“That’s not a punishment daddy, you know I love being on my knees.”

Ben smirks, challenge accepted.

He drops down, so he’s eye to eye with his boyfriends, tracing a finger tediously up the line of Eoin’s neck, before wrapping his hand around the lithe column, and leaning forward as though he’s going to kiss him. But he doesn’t.

He holds him in place, breathing softly against his mouth. He can hear how his boyfriend’s breathing changes from slow and relaxed, to desperate and stuttering. He revels in it. “I know you do.” Ben uses his hand to turn Eoin’s face away from Mark, holding him there.

“Hi, gorgeous.”

“H-Hi.”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“Please, sir.”

“So good for me love, come here.” He braces his hand on Mark’s cheek and kisses him _filthy._ The sound bounces off the walls, echoing through the room. It’s wet, and messy and desperate and nasty and god the way it sounds- Eoin is struggling to hold himself up. He’s dying to turn his head and watch them, dying to apologise and beg Ben to let him see, just, _please._

But he’s not going to beg. No. He won’t.

But then Ben does that thing, where he groans Eoin’s name while his tongue is deep inside Mark’s mouth, voice breathy and low and so commanding, it makes him want to _plead._

Mark sobs, _positively sobs,_ and Eoin knows that sound, it’s the one _he_ makes when Ben’s not being rough enough.

“What is it, baby? What do you want?”

Ben’s grip at his throat hasn’t changed, it’s just snug, enough to make him breathe _harder,_ make him want it more, but Eoin knows that it’s all a ploy. He can hear a soft kiss being pressed to Mark’s cheek, possibly his temple, but he doesn’t exactly know.

“Come on, sweetheart, you can tell me, I promise.” God the way Ben talks, it’s a wonder he doesn’t have everything he wants in the world. It’s too much, it’s saccharine to the point where you should be worried, but soft in the way that makes you trust it.

It seems to be affecting Mark quite a bit, but again, Eoin is unable to see them so he can’t fucking tell.

He could be wrong, and Ben could be biting at the shell of the pacer’s ear, coaxing words from the brunette’s pretty mouth, or maybe he’s opening him up on his fingers, or maybe he’s got one of his beautiful hands wrapped around Mark’s length, or maybe-

“Sir, I- I want your belt around my neck.”

Eoin loses all his composure. He wants to watch this. He wants to watch Ben’s fingers slide sensually over the strip of leather, and the way they’d work so meticulously to do the task in the most erotic way possible. He wants to see the way Mark’s eyes would follow those hands, and glaze over when the belt is finally released from around Ben’s hips. Maybe their boyfriend would beg for Ben to buckle it around his throat, and maybe he’d beg for it to be _tighter,_ and oh god he’s already so fucking close-

“Daddy please I want to watch, _please, please I’m sorry,”_ Ben slowly releases his grip around Eoin’s throat, watching intensely as the smaller ginger blinks at him, baby blue eyes shining innocently.

Ben places a chaste kiss to this smaller boyfriend’s cheek, softly praising him for obeying and apologising.

He stands and starts working at his belt, fingers meticulously lifting the clasp, and unthreading the leather from the black denim. He drags the length of the belt against the palm of his hand sensually, revelling in the way he feels eyes over his movements. He steps behind Mark, and wraps the material twice around the base of his neck, slips it through the buckle and _pulls._

“Good?”

Mark’s breath catches as he nods, moaning softly as Ben kisses him, sliding two fingers under the material to make sure it’s not too constricting.

The action is erotic enough to have Eoin whimpering in the back of his throat.

“What is it, darling?”

“Y-your hands.”

“What about them, baby?”

“F-fuck me with them.”

“Fuck you with them..?”

Eoin whines, glancing at Mark who’s currently busy flicking his tongue between two of Ben’s fingers, and _fucking Christ,_ he wants that.

“Please, I want them.”

“The whole sentence gorgeous, I need all of it. Mark is being so good for me, getting my fingers ready, but what do you want me to do with them?”

“Fuck me. With your fingers, the ones that Mark has in his mouth. _Please.”_

“Please, _what?”_

“Please daddy?”

“So good darling, strip for me, come here.” Ben slips his fingers out of Mark’s mouth, cooing softly as the brunette whines.

_“Sir?”_

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Can I, I want,” Mark makes grabby hands at Eoin, who smiles at him lovingly.

 _“Oh.”_ Ben nods, and Eoin hurriedly lays down as Ben starts tearing Mark’s clothes from his body. The brunette hooks a thigh over his Eoin’s face, and the shorter boy’s hands dig into the dimples of his boyfriend’s lower back, pulling him flush against his mouth.

Ben knows precisely what Eoin is doing from the expressions Mark makes. He’s watched them do this before, memorised the way each movement pulls a different guttural groan or involuntary jolt of muscles.

He knows that if Eoin’s shallow and quick, Mark’s hips chase them, pushing down and rolling deep, trying to get _more._

If the intrusions are slower, harder, languid and scandalous, Mark will sigh softly, whine high in his throat, grip tightly at Eoin’s biceps.

If he’s being teased, Mark will be uncontrollable, hips jerking and consistent cries of both their names, head thrown back and eyes shut tight while he _screams._

Right now, it looks as though Eoin’s working him over, slow and deep and smooth. Ben watches for a few seconds, before crawling up Eoin’s legs and pressing a few chaste kisses to the solid muscle of his thighs. Torturously slow, he pushes his index fingers into him, while simultaneously biting into the meat of his inner thigh. Eoin cries, muffled against their brunette boyfriend, who collapses forward slightly. The remaining strip of the belt falls behind him, hanging tantalisingly within Ben’s grasp. He curls his two fingers up, prompting a scream to fall from Eoin’s throat, while he pulls, _hard,_ at the belt. It’s beautiful to watch, and Ben needs to fuck one of them, _both of them,_ now.

Using the makeshift lead, he pulls Mark back against him, pressing him into the mattress. “Si-sir please- I can’t-”

“Hush angel, don’t worry, Eoin’s going to give you what you want.”

Mark's nails find their way into the shorter ginger’s back, as Eoin braces himself above him. “You’re both going to watch me while you get started.”

As Eoin pushes into Mark, both of them immediately turn to face Ben, who’s started dragging his shirt up, agonisingly slow, exposing hard toned muscle as it’s finally tugged off. Mark can’t keep himself quiet, moaning softly, throwing his head back against the pillow, begging Eoin to tug at the belt and cut his air supply.

“Don’t touch the belt, Eoin. I'm warning you. That's my job.” Ben warns, undoing the button of his jeans, as he peels them from his hips to reveal bare skin. Mark almost comes then and there.

_“Fuck me, oh god, please fuck me, daddy now, I want it.”_

“You’re a brat darling, but I’ll fuck you anyway, you’re too pretty to deny.”

He bites softly at the side of Eoin’s throat, before running his hand over the lithe appendage, reaching below him to tug at the belt. There’s enough of it left to wrap around the base of Eoin’s neck once, while still having some room to give. He places it across Eoin’s jugular, tugging lightly. The sounds it releases from both of them, have him very very close to the edge.

_“Sir please-”_

_“Oh my god, daddy more-”_

Ben growls against the shell of Eoin’s ear and pushes into his boyfriend. The movement is so harsh, so venomous, that Eoin falls further against Mark, prompting broken screams from their restricted throats.

_“Harder,”_

_“I can take it, I promise. Please, sir?”_

Ben is going to fucking die, but it’s the best thing he’s ever experienced. Controlling both of their breathing with the tug of one hand, and controlling how much pleasure they both get with his hips, it’s dizzying. Each thrust into Eoin, has Mark crying out twice as loud, while the shorter ginger is reduced to nothing but strangled cries and ragged breathing.

“Ben- oh my fucking god please can I-”

“Go ahead, you can both come whenever you want, you’re both so good for me, letting me do what I want to you, taking everything, looking so pretty like this, throats wrapped up in my belt, begging and crying and fucked so well, _fuck.”_

5219/7263

When Mark comes, he arches his back up so far, it looks almost painful. He digs his nails into Eoin’s back and screams, _loud,_ tightening up deliciously around the shorter ginger.

Eoin has the breath (what little was left) punched out of him, collapsing forward and sinking his teeth into the flesh of Mark’s neck, just above the clutch of the belt.

Ben fucks into Eoin harder, forcing him into Mark, the overstimulation proving to be painful for both of them in the best of ways, judging by how Mark pulls Eoin’s mouth closer, both of them making out messily while Ben fucks them _rougher._

“Love you so much daddy, feels so good,” accompanied by a breathy, broken whimper from Mark, send him over the edge. He quickly pushes himself to the side, so that he doesn’t crush the two of them under his weight. He leans over, first unwrapping the belt, and pressing chaste kisses around their throats, before slowly untangling his two boyfriends, laying them down side by side on the bed. He presses loving kisses to both their foreheads before getting up and tugging on a pair of shorts.

Mark’s hand grabs his bicep, voice small and quiet, “don’t go,” as Eoin blinks up at him. Ben gives him an encouraging nod.

“Marky, Benny is just gonna get some water and a fluffy towel to clean you up, come here,” the shorter ginger opens his arms, as Mark tucks himself into them, burrowing his head into the Irishman’s collarbone.

Ben smiles proudly, kisses both their temples again, and dashes off to get water, towels, and some cold cream for the marks they’ve no doubt got, bruised into their flesh. He also fires off a quick text to Jos and Jonny, before running back to the bedroom.

Carefully, he tends to Mark, massaging the tense muscles of his thighs and gracing his fingertips softly over the mauled skin around his throat. Once he’s satisfied that Mark’s safe, and comfortable, he does the same for Eoin, applying the cream in soothing, circular gestures, before crawling between them and tucking them into his arms.

“Are you both okay?”

He gets two very pleased, very soft and very satisfied hums back. He tugs both of them closer, and presses kisses to their hair. “I love you.”

Two sleepy voices echo it back, and Ben closes his eyes to stop the tears. He receives a few drowsy kisses to his biceps, as Mark and Eoin drift off, still clutching tightly at him. Yeah, Ben’s okay. _More than okay._


End file.
